


Finding Hope

by loumydia (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Minor Character Death, Sexual Abuse, Smut, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/loumydia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <em>Hope Livingston is an aspiring dancer, with a haunting past and present. Harry Styles is a boy band sensation that has lost his voice after his girlfriend of two years cheats on him. They’re both lacking in a very important factor in getting through a rough patch in life, hope. Will they find hope in each other? Or will their life only continue to spiral downward.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hope.

Hope is many things, it could be the hope that you get a good grade on a test, hope that you get home before that hail storm starts, hope that your mum doesn’t find out you snuck out last night. Hope is different for everyone, especially in this case.

Hope was everything her mum and dad hoped for. Her mum had been infertile, but somehow she got pregnant, and she had hoped her child would survive this time. Hope survived, and was born into a beautiful child, with elegant strides and the rhythm of an angel.

Her parents loved her; they were content with the child they had received. Hopes life was anything anyone would hope for, until the summer of 2002, in the pouring rain.

That moment changed her life, and her hope had been lost.

 

“Michael are you coming!” Hope screeched from outside the coffee shop where her best friend worked.

Michael was his name, and he was tall and gangly, his blonde hair hung in his eyes far too often and Hope always caught herself pushing it out of his face,

“When are you going to get a haircut again?”

He smirked at her, “Yesterday.”

Hope rolled her eyes, strolling down the street towards the studio that she adored.

Michael’s face contorted when his mum yelled his name from two blocks over,

“Will you hurry up! Oh, Hope! Lovely to see you today. How are you?” Michael’s mum, who had really taken Hope in the last couple years smiled at her,

“I’m good today, Mrs. Wills.” She nodded,

“Well go on in and I believe studio 2 is open. Go on.”

Hope nodded and took off down the corridor to studio 2 and quickly dropping her bag and sliding the CD into the stereo. Toxic starts to blare through the speakers and Hope can feel the air in her lungs easily slide out, unlike when she’s at home. Her shoulders feel lighter.

 

Michael finds his way down the corridor, stopping at studio 2 and smiling at Hope through the window. He stands and watches her prance around the floor, sashaying her hips around.

“She’s so talented.” Michael jumps a little at his mum’s voice,

“Oh, uh..yeah, yeah she is.” He smiles back into the window.

Michael’s mum continues down the hall and Michael sighs, hearing the song come to an end and a slower one coming on, he recognizes it as Mirrors, and Hope never stops her body from movement.

He thinks he could watch her all day, how her long brown hair bounces with every jump and spin that she makes, and how her forehead scrunches up with her concentration. His heart flutters in his chest, and his stomach fills with butterflies, just like it did when he first saw her walk into the studio all those years ago, her mum by her side.

“Michael, are you going to keep gawking or are you going to come mop up studio 4,”

Michael’s sister raises her eyebrow at him,

“You know staring at her won’t get her to marry you kid.”

Michael rolls his eyes, “Shut up Kendall.”

Hope shuts off the music after an hour, slipping the cd back into her bag. She notices her phone blinking with missed calls from her dad, but she ignores them and goes to find Michael.

She finds him at the front desk playing on his phone,

“Hey could I stay at your house?” She sighs, handing him her phone.

Michael’s nods and hands her phone back after seeing the list of calls. He jumps up and grabs his keys off the rack behind the desk,

“C’mon troublemaker.” He smiles, using his nickname for her.

He had begun calling her that a few years ago, when she started avoiding her dad at all costs, but sadly she couldn’t always avoid him, her arms and legs showed proof, and so did her faltering smiles.

They walk down the dark street; Hope grips her bag tighter, even though nothing ever happens in Kingston.

They pass college students on their way to the clubs in the town Centre.

“I applied for London Theatre.” Hope whispers,

Michael’s head immediately turns to look at her,

“And?”

She shrugs, “They haven’t gotten back to me, but I only applied last week.” Michael nods,

“You’ll get an audition, you’ve been dancing for years.”

The subject gets dropped, because dancing is all the she has, and if she doesn’t make into that school, she will be lost.

 

Michael unlocks the front door, swinging it open causing the old and rusty hinges to squeak loudly. Hope clambers up the stairs and skips down the hall to the room that’s basically hers.

Her clothes are strewn around and her makeup sits on the counter. She drops her purse on the messy bed and pulls off her shorts, that really it still wasn’t warm enough to wear, even though it was summer.

She pulled on her sweatpants, and danced down the hall to Michael’s room.

“Knock Knock,” She jumped and landed on his bed,

“Wow, what a great knocker you are, I was definitely not just changing.” He rolled his eyes,

“Eh, I’ve seen all your bits and pieces; we’ve only been best friends for 14 years.” She giggled and Michael couldn’t help but stop and stare at how her nose scrunches,

“I think you also forget we’ve taken baths together.” He smirks, raising an eyebrow. Hope rolls her eyes,

“Oh whatever.” Hope buries her nose into Michael’s pillow, and he runs and jumps on top of her,

“Get off you twat!” She shrieks, pushing him off, but to no avail he’s got her again, tickling her sides so she’s squirming violently in his larger hands,

“Michael stop!” She shrieks, tears forming in her eyes, his hands stop and he sighs, lifting her shirt to find dark bruises all over her ribs,

“He did it again?” Hope nods,

“Last night.”

Her voice sounds broken, she swallows back the tears threatening to spill and she pulls her shirt down. Michael sits up, his heart clenches in his chest and he feels like going to kill the son of a bitch, but he knows Hope would never forgive him, so he just clenches his biceps in his hands.

Hope gets up quickly and starts towards the guest room, when she turns into the safety of it, she locks the door and goes to climb under the blankets, feeling tears start to prickle at her eyes again. She lets out a shaky breath, closing her eyes.

 

Michael wakes up to soft whimpering from down the hall, he knows what it is, and at first he hesitates, remembering what had happened a few hours before, but he gets up anyway.

He tries the knob, but he figures it’s locked, it is. He reaches up and grabs the key and unlocks her door, slipping into the dark room where he sees Hopes figure, her whimpering is louder now, so he closes the door back and crawls across the bed and lies down beside her, he pulls her onto his chest and her hand immediately fists his shirt.

“Relax, Hope, relax.” He whispers, rubbing her neck soothingly. He stares down at her, her face looks younger when she sleeps; she still looks so innocent, like how he met her when they were three.

She wasn’t covered in bruises or scars, and she was still lively and had no cares in the world. Now, now she was a young lady rather than a seventeen year old girl.

He sees the pain in her eyes on a daily basis, he knows things others don’t. They see the scars and bruises and believe that she’s clumsy, or think it’s from her dedication to dancing, but he knows who inflicts those bruises on her.

Hope whimpers again, so Michael starts humming softly, Your Song by Elton John, her favorite song.

 Her whimpers silence, and Michael finds his eyes drooping again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ill see you later boys.” Harry smiled at his four mates, closing the door and making his way down the steps into the pouring rain. It rains so often in London that he pulls his hood up almost robotically, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He sees the sign of the corner coffee shop up ahead, the place he had met her. The girl who always seemed to amaze him, with her dark blue eyes, like the ocean during a raging storm.

He climbs the stairs and the warm air invites him, along with the smell of coffee beans. The lady at the counter who he had become acquainted with over the past couple years smiles,

“The usual?” Harry nods,

“You’re earlier than usual hun.” She smiles, pouring the coffee into the Styrofoam cup and searching for the can of redi-whip.

“I’m surprising Liz.” He beams, pulling out a wad of cash and setting a 10 pound note on the counter, she hands the drinks to Harry and he balances the drinks in one of his large hands, shoving the wallet back into his back pocket with the other,

“Keep the change love.”

Harry crosses the street cautiously, unlocking his Range Rover and setting the coffee cups in the cup holder and climbing into the car. He starts off towards the flat he shares with Liz, his mind drifting to her, as it does quite often. He can see her smile now when she sees he’s home earlier, how she’ll be sitting across from him in his shirt, the one she always wears because it smells like him.

He clambers out of the car awkwardly, almost spilling his own coffee on the front of his shirt. The elevator was out of order, as usual so he scales the eight flights of stairs, never pausing because he’s used to the climb now, the first time though, he stopped three times to catch his breath, but he would never admit that. He unlocks the door to the flat, opening it quietly so the hinges don’t squeak to announce his arrival.

He can hear moans coming from down the hall, his eyebrows furrow curiously, a smirk starting to form on his lips. Harry has caught Liz more than once trying to get herself off so he wouldn’t be surprised if he caught her again, but he was in no way prepared for what he was about to find.

The moans continued to get louder, but now he heard male moans too. Harry opened the door to see his girlfriend, on all fours, being pounded into by some burly man who Harry thought he had seen in some porn video he had seen a few years ago.

Harry dropped the cups, the tops bursting off and coffee spilling everywhere.

“Liz?” He croaks, a lump forming in his throat, the two turn to see him, Liz’s face going pale,

“Harry? Wh- What are you doing here?” Confusion washes over her face.

“What am I doing here?” Harry laughs coldly,

“Yes Harry, what are doing here? You weren’t supposed to be home for another two hours.” She climbs off the bed, sliding his shirt over her head, his fucking shirt.

Harry laughs at that,

“Wow Liz, you’re being fucked on our bed, in our flat by someone other than me and all you can say is what’re you doing here, this is my flat too you know.” Liz frowns,

“I’m going to uh- I’m going to go.” The man awkwardly chimes in; attempting to brush past Harry, but Harry grabs his arm and shoves him down into the spilled coffee. Harry slams his fist into the guys face, causing a disgusting crunch noise to echo.

“Harry! Get off him!” Liz screeches, but Harry doesn’t listen, continuing to punch at the man’s face.

“Harry!” Liz pulls him off the man, slapping him and turning to the closet, grabbing her clothes and most of her shoes and shoving them into her bag. When she comes out Harry is staring at his bloody knuckles,

“Fucking psychopath.” She snarls, grabbing the man’s hand and storming down the hall and slamming the front door.

Harry slides down the door frame, wrapping his arms around his knees and trying not to cry, because he shouldn’t cry, she was a bitch, she wasn’t worth it, she cheated on him, but Harry finds it harder to hold back the tears, and they’re soon streaming down his face.

Harry knows he has rehearsal today, but he can’t get out of bed, he can’t find the energy, so he goes back to sleep, not bothering to call in sick.

When he wakes up again, he opens his eyes to hear four voices whispering, and those faces are hovering over him with worried faces.

“Hello Harry, nice of you two revive from the dead.” Louis smirks, tickling his side, causing Harry to groan and push his hand away.

“What happened?” Liam sighs, cleaning up the beer bottles,

“Caught- caught Liz with someone else.” Harry croaks, he thinks he must still be tired and his voice is still sore from crying so much.

“Where is she now?” Niall glances around the flat, noticing the holes in the wall and the coffee and blood splattered across the floor.

“She left.” And here come the tears again, sliding down his cheeks in warm trails. Everyone’s heads snapped up at that statement, they never thought this would happen.

Harry and Liz had always been inseparable, always doing everything together, unless he was on tour and she had to finish some work at Uni. They thought they could survive anything together.

Except now they’ve been proven wrong. They all race over to envelope their friend in a hug, his tears soaking all their shirts.

“Shh, Harry it’ll be okay.” Zayn whispers, rubbing Harry’s bare back. Niall nodded,

“She wasn’t worth it mate, not if she would leave you.” Harry nodded, curling in on himself.

The next morning Harry had to go to rehearsals, so he drug himself out of bed just to put on sweats and get himself to the studio. When he arrived, the boys were already warming up, their voices being re-trained after the long break between tours.

“Harry! How are you this morning?” Helene exclaimed from inside, running up to him and kissing both his cheeks.

“I’m alright,” Harry shrugs, “As good as I can be I suppose.” Helene accepts his answer,

“Well come on, we need to get that pretty voice up to speed.” Harry followed her across the studio lot, towards the other boys. He receives more sympathetic smiles than he would have liked, but he smiles back regardless.

“Alright bub, can you do the series of notes like I taught you?” Helene smiles at him, Harry nods, taking a deep breath before trying the first, only for a crackly tone to come out. Liam and Niall exchange worried glances. Helene smiled,

“Try again love, it may just be sore.” Harry nods, trying again and again, but it only got worse. Helene sat in a chair, that Harry didn’t think was actually supposed to be there and she just carried it across the lot against orders.

“Alright Harry, you’re on vocal rest until the morning, we can try again tomorrow.”

It didn’t work though, Harry still couldn’t get the notes to come out smooth or correctly pitched, it felt impossible.

“Alright boys, the best we can do right now is wait out Harry’s voice, this won’t be permanent, only a few months they expect.” Harry glances down at his lap, something weighing heavy on his chest, the guilt of holding the other boys back. The boys nod understandably, rising out of the chairs to shake Simon’s hand before leaving, Harry trailing behind languidly.

“Hey Haz, would going to the club cheer you up? You could dance with a few girls, I’m sure that could cheer you up, have a few drinks?” Niall smiles, patting his shoulder, but he just shakes his head,

“I’m just going to go home Niall, go relax some.” Niall understands, he really does, but he misses seeing his friend happy.

“Alright man, be safe.” Harry nods, whispering a ‘you too’ as Niall chases Louis down the street as their obnoxious laughter echoes throughout the alley.

Harry had walked today; his flat was only one tube train over so he didn’t find a point in wasting gas.

The sky wasn’t dreary today, the sun was shining and normally that would make him happy, put him in a great mood, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to smile.

“Watch where you’re going!” A business man, yelling in his phone, growls when Harry bumps shoulders with him, but Harry doesn’t reply, because the man is already another block over by the time he turns. The tube station is buzzing, commuters on their way home to see their families after a long day at work.

He waits patiently for the train, people standing beside him, a little ways back because Harry had a habit of standing on the edge. A rush of wind blows his hair out of place, curls plastering to his forehead, and he groans, reaching up to fix his hair but getting caught off guard. He hears a soft giggling beside him, “You know if you didn’t stand so close to the edge then you wouldn’t get your hair all tousled out of place.”

Harry turns at the sound of the girl’s voice, only to be met with caramel colored eyes and a wide, bright smile. That’s the first time he’s smiled in two weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really triggering chapter, if you aren’t comfortable please don’t read it. I was sick to my stomach writing this, but you have to understand it’s necessary to this story. Feedback is appreciated.

Hope exited the club, annoyed with Michael because he ditched her, again. The tube station was just up the street, and she had walked the path many times, choosing the risky short cut that took her through some dark alleys; she had her mace can with her anyway.

The street lights flickered in a somewhat eerie way as she passed through the last alley, the station in sight.

“Hey there beautiful.” She heard a dark voice from down the alley; she took off her stilettos and dashed away from the voice, merging into a crowd making its way into the station. She probably should put her shoes back on, the floors here were no doubt covered in rat feces and old gum, but her feet were killing her so she chose not to.

The platform was starting to fill up; people swerving around others to get to a different tram, Hope noticed an awkwardly tall man standing way too close to the edge. For a second she thought he was going to walk straight in front of the tram. She edged closer to him, trying to get a look at him. He had curly brown hair, and the back of his head was nice, really nice actually. The train pulled up and his hair flew in all sorts of directions, the curls frizzing slightly. Hope giggled at his disgruntlement,

“You know if you didn’t stand so close to the edge then you wouldn’t get your hair all tousled out of place.” He quickly turned his face, his green eyes landing on her. She knew who he was, everyone knew. The corners of his mouth quirked up, showing a prominent dimple on his left cheek; Hope’s eyes widened and she hesitated before going to board the train and sitting on one of the seats. His name was Harry Styles, she had a huge crush on him when he was on the X Factor, and Michael always teased her for it, saying the band was a load of shit. What did he know? He liked all that heavy metal, screaming shit that she could only stand for 2 seconds.

 

Harry maneuvered around the people, tripping over his own feet and landing in the spot next to her. They sat quietly, awkward tension rising before he coughed,

“Uh—hi I’m uh-I’m Harry, Harry Styles.” He held out a hand, looking down at the petite girl. Hope avoided his eyes, shaking his hand,

“Hope.”

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” She laughed at that,

“If you think your cheesy chat up lines are going to work on me, you’ve mistaken.” Hope rolled her eyes, standing up abruptly, “This is my stop, nice meeting you Harry Styles, try not to stand so close to the edge.” Harry stood too though, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Um, this is my stop too.” Hope nodded, she knew he was lying, she quickly turned to the doors and made it out before the rest of the crowd.

When Hope exited the station, she was met with a cold breeze, making goose bumps rise on her legs and arms. She started the walk towards her house, she didn’t want to go home, she wanted to go to Michaels, but she had lost her key and no one was home. His mum had gone out of town for a dance recital with the younger children and wouldn’t be back till tomorrow.

She felt a presence behind her and started to pick up the speed,

“Hey, wait up.” Hope stopped then, turning with a confused look,

“Are you following me?” Harry paused,

“Well, no, I just- I thought maybe- I could walk you home?” He smiled again, oh god that smile. Hope pursed her lips and nodded,

“Alright.” They started walking again; Hope had her arms wrapped tightly around her, trying desperately to keep in warmth in her tiny body. Harry took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders,

“Nope, take it back.” She shook her head, handing him the jacket, he took it and draped it back over her shoulders and smiled,

“You’re basically not wearing anything and it’s quite cold.” Hope looked down at her dress, it was short yes, but it wasn’t that skimpy.

She could see her house rising ahead, Hope was debating whether to make him leave or to let him walk her to the door. She opted for the first, not wanting her father to see him; it would only make things worse.

“This is good Harry, thanks for walking me.” She took off his jacket and handed it back,

“Are you sure? How much farther do you have?” Hope pointed,

“Just that one right there thanks.” She started to walk off in the direction she pointed, but Harry caught up to her again.

“Keep my jacket; it gives me an excuse to see you again.” Hope shook her head. If her father saw the jacket he would know she had been with a boy other than Michael.

“No, I can’t take that.”

“Then at least give me your number or something.” His smile was hopeful, and she had to give in, who could deny those green eyes and that sweet smile,

“Fine.” She wrote her number on his hand and started her journey again.

The door was unlocked when she arrived; the house was mostly dark since it was almost 11 pm now. She closed the door quietly, locking it and starting to tiptoe around the corner and up the stairs.

“Where have you been?” She heard the rough voice from the sitting room. The house smelled of alcohol and she noticed the table by the stairs had been knocked over.

“I was at Michaels yesterday, and we went into town today.” There was a brief silence before she heard him get up, his steps were heavy and she knew that he had been drinking, he did every night.

“Went into town to do what?” Hope’s mind raced looking for an excuse,

“We just went to go walk around, we were bored.”

“In that dress? Try again.” His eyes darkened.

“I felt like getting dressed up is all, we went to a nice restaurant.” He shook his head,

“You went to a club didn’t you? You’re such a slut, trying to pick up men and get in their beds. You’re a whore.” Hope’s eyes watered, she turned to go upstairs, hide from his presence until tomorrow but he grabbed her wrist and yanked her down the steps.

“If you’re going to act like a whore than I’m going to treat you like one.” He spat in her face, her knees hurt from falling down the stairs and landing on them. He unzipped his pants and Hope felt tears run down her cheeks,

“No daddy, I won’t do it again, please no.” He laughed loudly, it echoed throughout the empty house,

“You’re asking for it.” His hand rose and fell onto her cheek, causing it to sting and shoot pain throughout her head, she choked on her sobs and she felt his knee make contact with her now bare stomach. Her jaw was widened until it felt like it could snap, and all the blood in her body felt drained, and she blacked out.

 

Hope’s aching body woke her up, light barely streaming through her bedroom curtains. She pulled the covers up around her bare body, trying desperately to pull herself together. She couldn’t open her left eye, and she knew makeup wouldn’t cover it this time.

Her dress was shredded on the floor and condoms lay next to the bin. She heaved a sigh, her chest aching as she did so, and pushed herself up and swung her legs over the bed, noticing the bruises on her knees and thighs. No shorts today or singlets for that matter. She grabbed an old t-shirt and some capris and walked quietly to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it.

 

Showers always calmed her down; she could let out her tears without her dad hearing how weak she is. She washed her hair, trying desperately to massage her scalp like her mum used to, but no one could compare to her. Hope sat in the bottom of the shower for a few extra minutes, breathing slowly and picturing her mum, long brown hair whipping in the cold air, her nose red and her eyes dancing with laughter and joy. It’s tragic how quickly things can be taken away from you.

She slid her clothes on and trying to blend her makeup so you couldn’t see the bruising of her left eye, but to no avail. She popped a few pain relief pills and pulled on her converse and grabbed the keys off the dresser, having found them in her makeup container. She closed the front door silently, making her way to the dance studio to work off her emotions. She hated crying, she hated anger, she hated happiness, she wanted to dance, she danced until she was exhausted, exhausted until she felt nothing.

 

She saw a familiar face walking towards her,

“Hey troublemaker.” His smile faltered when he met her face to face. His hand reached up and brushed at the makeup,

“Hope, I-Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go home? I could’ve left; you wouldn’t have had to go home to face that scumbag.” Hope’s eyes shot up, shooting him a glare before she darted around him and started off again towards the studio.

“Hope! Wait!” He grabbed her wrist and she tensed up, closing her eyes and letting out a shaky breath. Michael dropped her wrist, his mouth dropping open.

She was gone again.


	4. Chapter 4

After Harry saw Hope disappear behind the closed door of her house, he started back towards the tube station because this really hadn’t been his stop, it was actually farther than his stop, but he needed to get her number. Harry smiled at the digits written across the back of his hand.

The ride to his station had been peaceful, he never get noticed this late at night anymore. The air was cold, and Harry wrapped his jacket tighter around his body and begged for some warmth. Harry rounded the corner towards his flat and noticed a figure standing outside the door. As he approached, he recognized the figure. Harry wanted to turn around and run away but he knew he had to face her at some point. 

 

“Hey.” Liz smiled at him, “Think I could come in?” Harry nodded, opening the door for her. The elevator was working today, so they climbed in, both of them shivering. Once they made it to the door, Harry unlocked it and she followed him into the flat.

“Here to pick up the rest of your stuff?” Harry made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He needed a hot cuppa, desperately.

“Uh no actually, I’m here to apologize.” Harry turned to find her leaning against the counter, her eyes locked on the pictures on the fridge. Pictures from their trip to Dubai on their anniversary, pictures of when they went to meet Liz’s parents in Manchester and pictures of when she came on tour with him in America.

“I’m so sorry Harry.” She whispered, her gaze met his, her eyes were red and she was holding back tears. Harry rushed over to her, crushing her into a hug.

“Shh, Liz babe, it’s okay.” Harry whispered as she sobbed into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt like she thought he might disappear. He rubbed her back and sighed, knowing this wasn’t a good idea. Harry walked over to their table, where they had eaten breakfast every morning. They had even had sex on the table once. The memory flashed through his mind and he found himself laughing. Liz looked up at him in confusion as she sat in the chair next to him.

“What’s so funny?” Harry shook his head, “Remember that time we had sex on this table?” Liz smiled, “You’ve never been great with patience.” They both laughed then. Liz’s tears had dried, but Harry could see the guilt in her eyes. They sat in silence for a while, just staring at each other.

“I miss you Harry.” Liz sighed.

“It’s only been two weeks.” Harry smiles, Liz giggles and leans forward, grabbing his hand. Harry knows he shouldn’t be letting her back in. She’s a cheater, and he doesn’t know how long she was cheating, it could’ve been the entire time and he would never have known, but she leans in and suddenly his focus is on her lips. God those lips, they’ve always been so pink and full and he can’t help that he leans in too. Her lips press to his and his mind is clouded. She stands to straddle his lap, and he can feel himself hardening from the friction. She tastes exactly how he remembers.

 

He can hear the kettle screaming to be removed from the hot stove, but Harry can’t move, because Liz is grinding down against him and moaning into his mouth. He doesn’t process the next moments in his head, because his lower region is controlling him now. He grabs her thighs and stands quickly, maneuvering them down the hall and dropping Liz on the bed, removing his shirt and climbing on top of her body. She giggles and removes her shirt, pressing kisses on his tattoos,

“You’re so much sexier than Jamie.” Harry freezes, sitting up and staring at her. Flashes of what he walked in on two weeks ago cross his mind and suddenly he’s shaking his head.

“What’s wrong Harry?” Her eyebrows knit together in a way he used to think were cute, but now it infuriates him.

“Get out.” She sits up, her face turning red with anger.

“What?”

“You heard me, get out.” He stood up and slipped his shirt over his head, “Now.” Liz scoffed and slid her shirt back on, brushing past him and padding down the hall towards the door. He hears her throw something, hearing glass shatter and then the front door slams. Harry closes his eyes and sighs,

“I need a drink.”

 

Summer was nearing, so the cold air wasn’t as bitter as before. It had been two days since Liz had kissed Harry, and he hadn’t heard from her. He had gotten so drunk that he ended up in Louis’ driveway with his pants around his ankles. Louis brought him inside while Eleanor got him some water to sober him some, he sat and listened to what happened, gave him a hug, and slept downstairs on the couches with him. Harry had wondered how he got such a lovely best mate, and smiled when he remembered there were 4 of them.

Now Harry was walking down the streets of London towards a new coffee shop, it wasn’t special but Eleanor had recommended it. When he got to it, he noticed it was a hole in the wall place like the other one. He sort of felt like he was cheating on the old lady at the corner coffee shop, but he couldn’t go back there yet.

Harry crossed the road and opened the door, slipping inside and inhaling the smell of fresh coffee. He ordered a large cup and went to sit at the corner table in the back. His coffee was delightful and warmed his insides, thawing him thoroughly. He heard the bell to the door ding and he looked up to see Hope walking in alone. She looked upset and he wondered why she was in London. He watched as she ordered her coffee, and then turned with her head down. She lifted it to only catch eyes with Harry, her eyes went wide and he thought she might flee the store, but he called her over and she hesitantly sat with him.

“Hi, how are you?” He smiled at her as she sat down, gazing at her coffee.

“I’m okay.” She replied softly, still not making eye contact. Harry needed eye contact, he felt disconnected without eye contact and he wanted to see if she was really okay. He reached across the table and tilted her chin up. Hope flinched at his touch, but she made eye contact, and those eyes were not okay. He could see hurt in them and they were bloodshot.

“What’s wrong?” Harry didn’t think she would tell him, she barely knew him, actually, she didn’t know him. She knew his name and what he looked like and they had spoken once but she didn’t know him, and he didn’t know her.

“It’s nothing, really Harry, I’m fine.” Harry nodded, picking up that she didn’t want to continue this conversation. He dropped his fingers from her chin but she kept the eye contact, and she was smiling.

 

“Would you like to go out to dinner sometime?” Harry and Hope were walking towards the tube station, giggling about all the odd people in London.

“Uh, I can’t.” She half smiled at him, turning back to look for more odd people.

“Why not?” Hope turned to look at him, her eyes narrowed, “Because I can’t.”

“Well there must be a reason why not, and don’t you think I deserve a reason?” Hope kept her gaze, but sighed, “Fine Harry, but it can’t be late and I get to pick the place.” Harry agreed, because at least he got to take her out to dinner, and he could get to know her then. The tube station came too soon and he waved as she disappeared into the crowd with a promise that she would call him.


	5. Chapter 5

The dial tone sounded through her phone, her nerves heightening as she dialed his number. One, two, three rings and a gravelly voice answered the phone,

“Hello beautiful.” Hope blushed, thankful that he couldn’t see her.

“This is the deal, you can pick me up at 6pm sharp at the tube station and we can go to whatever restaurant you want as long as I am back by 11pm.” Hope could hear Harry ponder for a moment.

“Deal, I’ll see you at 6.” She giggled softly before hanging up and glancing at the clock, she had an hour before her dad got home, and she had to be gone before he got here, or she would never leave. She quickly threw on her favorite dress and pulled her hair back, applying barely any makeup considering she had clear skin and dark eyelashes. When the clock said 5:45 she quickly grabbed her purse, skipping down the stairs and out the front door, praying her father wouldn’t leave work early. She locked the house and took the back way to the tube. The back way consisted of missing all of the main roads of Kingston, and her father didn’t know of it.

She stood outside the tube station, waiting for Harry to show up in one of his extra fancy cars. How it must be to be famous, she could only dream. Her mother had wanted her to be a professional dancer, but all the schools she’s applied haven’t gotten back to her, and she only had a short amount of time left.

 

Her mother had been a dancer, she was graceful and beautiful. She could silence an entire room with one elegant twirl. She learned fast and easily picked up every dance someone showed her, always making her a favorite student. She had brought Hope to the studio in London when Hope was three, and Hope had begged her mum to allow her to take lessons. That’s how her mother died.

She had taken Hope to dance every afternoon, and after work she would come pick her up. It had been raining awfully hard that day and the roads were slick with the recent snow fall. While they were driving home, she started skidding, sliding into one car, she had thought it was over, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning to see if Hope was okay, but she didn’t know there was another car. The driver had been speeding, and he hit a patch of ice. His car started to spin and slammed into them, colliding with the drivers side of the car. Her mother died on impact, hanging over the seat trying to help her daughter calm down.

The EMT’s pulled her out of the car, pronouncing her dead and calling Hope’s father. When he arrived, he took her straight home, going straight to the kitchen and taking a shot. He hadn’t spoke to her anymore until the funeral two weeks later.

That was the night he held her down in the dark for the first time. She was only six years old.

 

Harry pulled up in a Range Rover, honking the horn and breaking Hope out of her trance. She smiled, opening the passenger side and climbing in.

“Hello beautiful.” He leaned over the center console to kiss her cheek. Hope smiled, feeling her face burn. He pulled out of the station and Hope noticed the music in the background,

“Do all boy band sensations listen to their own albums?” She quirked an eyebrow and he chuckled,

“I was driving my god daughter home earlier and she loves to hear her uncles singing.” Hope nodded.

“So where are we going?” Harry stayed silent, pulling onto the motorway, “You’ll see.”

 

Hope had expected a posh restaurant in the centre of London. Instead it was a hole in the wall, pasta place. He parked across the street and held her door open, helping her down.

“You’ve surprised me Styles.” Harry smirked at her comment,

“I’m not as black and white as you may think love.”

The food was amazing, the servers all seemed to know him on a first name basis, but by now she had realized Harry was a people person, he would much rather be surrounded by people than be alone. They finished their food in less than fifteen minutes, and sat there for two hours laughing at funny stories and getting to know each other. Harry had noticed the bruises peppering her upper arms, but when she said they were from dance he believed her, because he had no reason not to.

Harry tipped the waiters, more than what is expected, but he can do that. The drive back had been quiet, but not awkward. Not awkward when he reached over and intertwined their fingers on the center console, not awkward when he kissed the back of it, not even awkward when he found himself tracing shapes into the back of her hand. But very awkward when she had to tell him to drop her off at the tube station, and he insisted driving her to her house. She begged, telling him not to take her there but to just drop her off at the station, he had none of it. They approached the station and she chewed on the inside of her cheek as they passed it.

“Harry please drop me here, please.” Harry’s brows furrowed,

“Why can’t I drop you off at your house and walk you to your door? Like normal?” Hope let out a loud sigh, “Because you just can’t.”

Harry stopped the car, separated their hands and turned to look at her,

“I don’t get you, I can’t drop you off at your house, I can’t give you my jacket, I don’t understand.” Hope saw that he was honestly trying to figure this out, but she just nodded and got out of the car.

 

She messed up her hair, and grabbed her sweatpants out of her bag, slipping them on and pulling the sweatshirt she had hid in the bushes over so her dad wouldn’t see her dress. She unlocked the door and went to climb the stairs to her room.

“Did you go to the studio?” Her father was sober. Hope turned and smiled, “I did.” He smiled at her, nodding his head, “Go on upstairs then. Goodnight ladybug.” He hadn’t called her that in years, not since her mum died. Hope climbed the stairs and locked her door, slipping into her bed and smiling to herself.

 

Hope opened her eyes, annoyed by the irritating clack against her window. She went to see what had been creating it, seeing a head of curls on the first floor. She opened her window and stared at him smiling at her.

“What the fuck Harry?!” She whispered as he started scaling the wall and giggling at her face as he reached the top,

“I never got my goodnight kiss.” Hope rolled her eyes at how cheeky he was, but let him climb in the window. He kissed her nose, eyelids, forehead, both cheeks, and she was getting impatient. She smashed her lips against his, letting him wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her body flushed to his. Their tongues tangled together and she moaned softly into his mouth. Hope pulled back, gasping for air. Harry bumped his nose against hers, “Goodnight beautiful.” She giggled, pushing him towards the window.

“Be at the station tomorrow at noon, I want to take you somewhere.” Harry winked, before disappearing down the wall and out the back gate. Hope rolled her eyes, closing the window and laying back down, finding sleep easier than she had been the last few days. She still hadn’t spoken to Michael, not since he ditched her at the club. Her phone was on silent, so she never got his calls or texts.

He didn’t rest easy anymore.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry paced the station, it was 12:30 and Hope still hadn’t arrived. He had called her three times now and it had rang until it went to voicemail. His heart was racing, he had already been nervous and now he was worried she had decided he wasn’t good enough. How could he be good enough? She was an angel.

He heard his name being called from across the station, and he turned to see a group of squealing girls making their way towards him. Giggles erupting as they snapped photos of him and with him, and he noticed the paparazzi had caught on and were taking pictures of him with the girls, asking him questions. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hope walk through the door, her smile faltering when she saw the crowd of people.

“Hope! Give me two seconds! I have to go girls, sorry.” He made his way through the crowd and over to Hope.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She was staring at her feet, so he grabbed her chin tilting it up so he could look into her eyes. He noticed she was wearing more makeup than usual, so he rubbed his thumb across a thick line of it revealing a dark shade of skin underneath. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as she quickly swatted his hand away and turned,

“Come on lover boy.” Hope started towards the platforms and he followed after her.

 

 

“So where’s this special place?” She had her fringe dropped down in front of the eye he had uncovered, trying desperately to hide the dark bruise that ringed her eye.

“Isle of Wight.” Hope turned towards him, smiling.

“You’re kidding. I used to go there every year on vacation with Michael.” Harry smiled,

“Me too. Well, not with Michael but with my mum and sister.” Hope darted towards the train they had to take, Harry chasing after her and grabbing her by the waist, causing her to squeak in pain.

“Harry put me down.” Harry set her on her feet, concern written all over his face. She ignored him though, climbing onto the train and sitting in a seat.

 

Harry had fallen asleep on the train, and he was snoring right in Hope’s ear causing her to roll her eyes at him. She pushed him off her when they stopped, causing him to fall off the seat. Laughter echoed throughout the train car as he came back to consciousness.

“Thanks.” He grumbled at her as he stood up. They walked to the bus station down the straight, heading for Blackgang Chine. Hope had begged him to go and he couldn’t say no to her. The bus ride had been quiet and relaxing for Hope after a long night of yelling and fighting. After Harry left Hopes dad came into her room, drunk. The peace she thought she was going to get last night had been ruined again.

 

They had rode every ride in the park and seen every attraction by the end of the day, but Harry had other plans than just taking Hope home. He grabbed her hand and took her down a sandy path that led them out to the beach. As they walked across the sand they came across a blanket with candles lit and food in a picnic basket.

“For my lady.” Harry smiled, holding his hand out and letting her sit on the blanket before plopping down ungracefully.

“You’re such a dork, this is adorable.” Hope giggled, peeking in the picnic basket.

“Adorkable.” Harry winked, Hope rolled her eyes, shoving him until his back hit the sand and she was straddling his waist.

“I like this position.” Harry winked, smirking at how she rolled her eyes again, “You know one day your eyes are going to get stuck like that.”

“Shut up.” She giggled, leaning down and kissing him. Her lips were soft, and Harry really liked the feeling of them on his. He felt Hope shiver, her tongue slipping out to meet his. Her lipstick tasted like strawberry bubblegum, and he never wanted to forget that taste. He slid his hands up her thighs to rest on her hips. Hope giggled, pulling back and crawling off him to open the picnic basket and pull out a sandwich.

“I’m starving so these better be good.” Harry rolled his eyes at her comment, “You know one day your eyes are going to get stuck like that.” She giggled in a mocking tone.

 

On the train home, Hope fell asleep on Harry this time. It was a humorous sight, her mouth hanging open and drool dripping out of her mouth. When they got to her stop, he picked her up to carry her home. Her eyes fluttered as she woke up, quickly snapping awake at the weightlessness. Harry set her down on her feet.

“Hope!” She whirled around to see a familiar face, “I’ve been calling you. Where’ve you been?” Hope’s eyes dropped to her feet at Michael’s look of concern.

“I’m sorry Michael, just been busy is all?” Michael nodded, “And this is?”

“I’m Harry Styles, nice to meet the famous Michael.” Harry beamed, Michael didn’t look amused.

“Are you guys, together?” Harry glanced down to see Hope still staring at the ground, “Um, we’ve been seeing each other yes. It’s nothing official.” Hope looked up to smile at Harry, he knew exactly what was going on with them, and they were on the same page. Michael nodded, turning and walking away,

“I’ll see you tomorrow Hope.”

 

The only sound between Hope and Harry was the sound of Harry’s pigeon toed feet dragging against the pavement.

“He likes you.” Harry commented.

“Of course he does, he’s been my best friend since forever.” Hope looked at Harry in confusion.

“No Hope, he likes you as more than that.” Harry sighed, stopping and facing her.

“You’re delusional Harry, he does not.” Hope rolled her eyes at him.

“I’m not; I can tell when a guy loves a girl. I’ve seen it enough.” Hope scoffed, turning to walk towards her house again.

“Whatever Harry, he’s my best friend he wouldn’t do that. He knows everything about me.”

“Why is that a reason he wouldn’t like you?”

“Because I’m fucked up Harry!” She quickly turned on her heel, screaming at him, tears prickling her eyes. Harry opened his mouth to tell her that wasn’t true, but she was already down the street and opening and shutting the front door. Harry was left out on the street, shocked at her outburst.

Harry contemplated climbing up to her window again, but he found himself on the train, heading for a bar.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut. :)

Hope climbed the stairs, noticing her father wasn’t home, locking the door and laying on her bed. Michael couldn’t like her. Harry couldn’t like her. She was fucked up and no one could love her. Not even her father.

The sound of her phone ringing pierced the silence of her room, she checked the caller ID, Michael’s picture popping up. She hit the green button,

“Can I stay with you?” She cut off what he was going to say, and heard his mumbled yes. She scrambled off her bed and hung up the phone, making her way to his house.

 

Hope practically knocked Michael over when she walked in the door.

“What’s wrong?” Michael’s eyebrows furrow, causing Hope to get angrier.

“Harry was being delusional about shit.” Michael nodded, hugging her close to his body, resting his chin on her head.

“I don’t like him, seems like an ass to me.” Hope’s eyebrows furrowed this time, confused on why Michael is judging Harry so much after meeting him once. Michael tilted her chin up, like Harry does. His gaze fixed on Hope’s lips, his hands gripping her hips. She was confused, not sure what he was doing until his lips were on hers. She squealed and pushed him away.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” She shouts at him, her hand rubbing her lips like he left an imprint on her.

“I-Hope.” She glared at him, darting out the front door towards the station. She called Harry on her way there, telling him she needed to stay with him tonight. Harry agreed, saying he’d pick her up at the station.

 

Hope immediately picked out the mop of curls in the crowd, running towards him and burying her face in his chest.

“What happened baby?” He whispered, holding her close. Paparazzi were swarming them, so he picked up her fragile body, carrying her towards his car parked outside. Hope was mumbling incoherently while he placed her in his car, running around to the other side and climbing in.

“What happened?” He asked again, hoping to hear her this time.

“Michael tried to kiss me.” Hope watched anger rise in Harry’s eyes before he pushed it down and reached over the console to kiss her.

“I don’t want anyone kissing you but me.” He whispered against her lips, a quiet confession.

“I don’t want to be kissed by anyone but you.” Harry’s heart swelled and he wanted to keep her safe, in his arms where he can make sure no one hurts her. He didn’t even know half the story.

 

When they arrived at Harry’s flat, he climbed the stairs, Hope trailing behind panting heavily,

“How the fuck do you do this every day.”

“It’s not every day, just some days. C’mere.” Harry picks Hope up bridal style and starts ascending again, clumsily. After almost falling several times, he conquered the last step and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

“For a pop sensation you sure don’t live anywhere too fancy.” Harry shook his head, opening the door and letting Hope in.

“This is nicer than I expected, since you’re a guy.” Hope giggled, smelling the flowers in the vase.

“You can thank my ex-girlfriend for that.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around Hope’s waist.

“Ex-girlfriend?” Harry nods,

“We broke up about 3 weeks ago.” Hope sighs, turning around in his arms and pressing her lips to his.

“She was stupid.” Harry smiles, backing her up to the table and trapping her with his hands pressed on the table on either side of her body. He kisses her again, this time grinding his hips into hers causing her to moan into his mouth. Harry slid his tongue across her bottom lip, asking for entrance. Hope giggled and kept her mouth shut. Harry groaned, running his fingertips across her stomach softly. She gasped and Harry slid his tongue into her mouth, his hips ground into hers again. Harry gripped the bottom of her shirt, sliding it up and over her head. His mouth dropped down to her neck, nipping and sucking the soft skin that smelt sweet.

Hope gripped the bottom of his shirt, slipping his over his head and she bit her lip, her eyes roaming the wide expanse of his chest, littered with tattoos. His stomach muscles flexed, and she whimpered. Harry smirked, leaning down to the shell of her ear,

“Like what you see?” Hope rolled her eyes, unclipping her bra and dropping it. Harry’s eyes widened and his large hands gripped her breasts, rolling the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Hope moaned,

“Where’s your room?” Green eyes met brown eyes, and he nodded, taking her hand and leading the way.

 

His room was smaller, most of it taken up by the large bed and dresser. He closed the door while she sat on the edge of his bed. He pushed her back onto the bed, unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down. That’s when he noticed the flecks of purple and grey on her skin. He brushed his fingers across each bruise, but decided to leave it until after. He pulled her underwear down her legs, slipping them off. Hope sat up, unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants and boxers down.

Hope’s eyes widened when his cock sprung free from its confines.

“Harry..” She trailed off in a gasp. He ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her.

“Is this your first time?” Hope’s eyes squeezed closed at that question, images of her dad flooding her mind. She shook her head. Harry tilted her head up,

“Look at me baby.” Hope’s eyes opened, he smiled at her and leaned down to kiss her.

“You’re beautiful.” Harry whispered, pushing her backwards onto the duvet so she could scoot up the bed and lay her head on the pillows. His lips brushed across her collarbones, down her chest until he took one of her nipples into his mouth. Sucking and swirling his tongue, Hope moaned, arching her back. He did the same to the other nipple, then slipping his lips down the rest of the path of her body, kissing her stomach and breathing warm air on her core. He slid her legs up so her thighs were resting on his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking at the sight before him. He turned his head to the left and kissed her thigh, leaving a lovebite.

“Harry.” Hope whimpered, bucking her hips. Harry smirked, leaning down to suck on her clit. Hope gripped the sheets. Harry moaned, licking her slit and plunging his tongue into her. He alternated between her clit and her hole. Hope was nearing the edge, she was clenching on his tongue, so Harry dropped her legs, climbing up to hover over her. Hope moaned and leaned up on her elbows to kiss him. Harry leaned over her, opening the bedside table and pulling out a silver package. He ripped open the packet with his teeth and rolled the condom onto his cock. He positioned himself at her entrance, pushing into her slowly. Hope whimpered, gripping his biceps, he was bigger than she had anticipated.

Harry groaned once he was fully in, her muscles clenching around him.

“Move.” Was all Hope could croak out, his brain processing quickly and his hips reeling back and snapping into hers. Hope’s eyes rolled back in her head as she begged for more, more, more. Harry’s thrusts sped up, the sound of slapping skin and their moans and groans filling the room. Hope was a mess, thrashing and gripping the sheets, pulling the pillows out from under her head. Harry found it extremely sexy, and he couldn’t understand why.

“Harry! I’m almost there, oh god!” She choked, her muscles clenching over and over. Harry buried his face in her neck. His thrusts got sloppy and quick, Hope’s thighs quivered as they were both thrown over the edge. Harry’s panting and throaty groans and Hope’s screams filled the room. Harry knew he would hear about this from his elderly neighbor. Harry smiled, kissing her neck.

“That was amazing baby. Damn.” Hope giggled and carded her fingers through his curls, scratching Harry’s scalp.

Harry rolled over onto his back, opening his arms for Hope to curl up into. Hope fell asleep almost instantly. Harry smiled, running his fingertips over her cheek.

“I’m falling so hard for you, Hope.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hope woke up to the most cliché morning after ever, wrapped up in Harry’s arms while the sunlight shone through the windows. She could hear birds chirping, and she snuggled closer to him, his arms tightening around her in his sleep. Hope figured she had to get up at some point today, so she wiggled out of his arms and crawled out of bed.

She immediately spotted his shirt on the floor, picking it up and pulling it over her head. Since he was practically an entire foot taller it engulfed her, it could’ve been a dress. She looked through a few drawers before opening one full of beanies and another full of his boxers. She slipped a grey beanie over her knotted and ratty hair and after pulling out too many pairs of boxers with holes in them, she settled on looking for her underwear.

She spotted them in the corner of the room, sliding them up her legs and scampering down the hall towards the kitchen. Hope opened the fridge, looking for something to make for breakfast. She settled on eggs and fruit, because that was all he had. She put the kettle on the stove for tea. Hope noticed a picture frame lying on top of a box labeled ‘Liz’. She looked around to make sure Harry hadn’t woken up and just been extremely quiet.

She noticed the picture was of Harry and a girl she had seen on magazine covers before, always with Harry. The box wasn’t taped shut so she opened the flaps to find more pictures and some clothes. Most of the pictures were of Harry and the girl in different places, some of them kissing, some of just her. She figured this must be the ex-girlfriend Harry had brought up last night.

“Morning beautiful.” Harry yawns, smiling at Hope from across the kitchen. Hope drops the picture frame and stands up quickly,

“Uh, I was just.” Harry nods,

“It’s fine.” Harry’s only in his boxers, and she can’t see any tears in this pair. He grabs a jacket off the rack and goes into the front foyer, Hope hears the door open and close and then Harry’s back with milk and a paper. He drops the paper on the table, stirring the eggs.

“You don’t cook much do you?”

“What?” Hope starts walking towards Harry,

“You burnt the eggs babe.” He chuckles, tossing them into the trash and grabbing new ones out of the fridge.

“Oh shit. I’m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, seeing that she’s wearing his shirt,

“You look good in my shirt.” Hope blushes, pretending to read the headlines on the front page. That is, until they actually catch her eye.

‘ONE DIRECTION BOY BAND SINGER HARRY STYLES HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH MYSTERY GIRL’

“Harry, what’s this?” Harry glances at the newspaper,

“Just the mirror having a jolly ol’time ruining people’s lives.” He shrugged, turning back to serve the eggs on two plates. Hope flipped to the page it was continued on to find pictures of her and Harry when they were at the train station.

“Oh no.” Hope whispered, what if her dad saw this? She didn’t get to dwell on the thought though because the front door was swinging open and a lot of loud voices were booming through the apartment.

“Harry! We’re here!” Hope looked up at Harry with a worried look, he smiled.

“In the kitchen!” Hope was soon met by four other familiar faces, the rest of the group.

“So this is the mystery girl eh?” Niall smirked, obviously eyeing her t-shirt and underwear clad body. Harry whacked him over the head,

“Eyes above the neck please.” Louis held out his hand,

“Louis, and you are?”

“Hope.” She smiled, but it didn’t really meet her eyes as she shook his hand.

“I’m gonna uh, go change.” Hope excused herself, bounding down the hall and shutting the door. She looked around for the pants she had been wearing yesterday.

 

“She’s cute Haz.” Liam smiled, taking one of the plates of eggs, Niall taking the other. Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing the rest of the eggs out of the fridge.

“She seems a bit jumpy.” Louis shrugged, stealing some of Liam’s eggs.

“What do you think Zayn?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“She seems cool. Relaxed.” Zayn shrugged, not really into anything this early in the morning. Or afternoon. Hope walked in at that moment, smiling at the boys and going to sit next to them.

“Holy shit Harry; you did a number on her neck.” Hope raised her hand to feel the tender spot at the base of her neck. Harry smiled proudly, leaning down the kiss her cheek before setting a plate of eggs in front of her.

“So Hope, you in Uni?” Liam smiled, genuinely interested as always.

“Uh no, will be next year though.”

“Finishing A Levels I see.” Hope nodded, eating her eggs.

Louis eyed Harry at that because a younger girl? Really? That’s so unlike Harry.

“How long have you and Harry known each other?” Louis asked, still looking at Harry.

“Two weeks I guess.” Hope says quietly, whispering almost. She sets her fork down, dropping her hands to her lap. Louis nods, finally meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Harry can I see you out in the hall?” Harry nods, standing up and following Louis out in the hall.

 

“Not only is she younger but she’s also only known you for two weeks?” Louis knew that Harry was a hopeless romantic but this was crazy.

“You don’t know her Louis, she’s different.”

“Of course she is. Harry you’re gonna break that poor girl’s heart, you know it. She’s young and she’s not known you very long. Are you trying to get over Liz by screwing her?” Harry’s anger boils and he just shakes his head at Louis because wow, why would he ever think that? And he storms off down to his bedroom.

Louis walks into the kitchen, “Uh guys, I think we should leave.” The boys all look at Louis, immediately getting the picture and getting up to leave. They all say goodbye and then they’re gone.

Hope grabs the plates and sets them in the sink. Walking down the hall and knocking on the bedroom door,

“Harry?”

“Come in babe.” Hope opens the door to find Harry sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. Hope sits down next to him, leaning into him.

“You know I’m not using you, right?” He looks up; Hope furrows her eyebrows, nodding slowly.

“I know.” Harry nods, lying back against the bed.

“Come cuddle?” He smiles softly, opening his arms up so she can crawl up and snuggle into his chest.

“Your friends are interesting.” Harry laughs,

“Interesting is the understatement of the year.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried while writing this.

Hope hadn’t been to the studio in weeks, not since the day after she had met Harry. Michael wasn’t supposed to work today, so she had decided to go. When she arrived though, Michael was there sitting at the desk playing on his phone. When the door shut his head snapped up.  
“Hope?” He raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him and walked straight back to one of the rooms. After setting up her IPod, she started dancing; letting all the frustrations and feelings she had from the last few weeks.  
It was two weeks after she had spent the night at Harry’s the first time. Now she frequently found herself there, telling her dad she was going to her friend’s house. He thought her friend was a girl but in fact Harry was all man.  
This had been the longest she had gone without speaking to Michael since they were little. Come to think of it she can’t think of a time she had ever not spoken to him. He hadn’t made an effort to speak to her either though, so she didn’t feel bad. She still missed him though, because hell he was her best friend. She was still in shock over the situation, he had never before made it seem like he wanted to be more than friends and she couldn’t understand where it had come from. She figured he was just desperate because he knew everything about her, he knew how fucked up she was.  
Michael didn’t think that though, he thought she was perfect. 

 

Harry’s friends had come around every now and then, and they always asked him how he felt. Hope found it odd at first, because was he sick?  
She had asked him to sing to her once, giggling at her offer, but Harry just looked at his feet before shaking his head and disappearing into his room for an hour while she sat on the couch and watched a rerun of Friends. When he had come out later he didn’t mention why he wouldn’t sing or why his eyes were rimmed red, and Hope didn’t mention it either. 

Since Hope spent so much time at Harry’s, that meant less time at home. That meant the bruises had faded and none had shown up. Harry had forgotten about them, thinking maybe she was just clumsy. Hope knew he had seen them and had wondered why he hadn’t said anything, because most people would have asked her why she had fingerprint shaped bruises on her thighs and hips, but she was grateful that he didn’t. He didn’t have to know. 

 

Hope danced until her feet were numb, her thighs shaking from the amount of exercise. She packed up her things and slipped on Harry’s jumper. She left out of the side door instead of the front to avoid Michael. She walked the short distance to her house, slipping inside and up the stairs quietly. She opened her bedroom door to find her dad sitting on the edge.  
“Who’s this boy?” He raised an eyebrow, holding a magazine on the front page. A picture of her and Harry holding hands was plastered across the front page.  
“Just a friend.” Hope mumbled, dropping her bag and crossing her arms.  
“Do you hold hands with all your friends?” He growled, standing up so he towered over her. Hope rolled her eyes,  
“He’s just a friend.” She tried again but her dad was having none of it, grabbing her jaw and glaring down at her.  
“You’re a liar. A worthless liar.”  
Later that night when Hope showed up at Harry’s house with a black eye and more fingerprint bruises, he asked but she wouldn’t talk. He tucked her in and held her throughout the night while she cried. 

It turned into a cycle, the bruises would fade while she spent time at Harry’s, but when she went home for a few nights, she would show up at his door with bruises and bloody lips. Harry picked up on the pattern, figuring out it had to be her home life.  
“Hope, please tell me what’s going on with you.” Harry cried, Hope just stared at him with a blank expression before she got up and left. He didn’t see her anymore. She didn’t show up at his door and she didn’t spend time with him. Her phone was always off and he knew going to her house could make things worse.  
It hit him one night that his only choice was to go to Michael.

 

Michael looked up from his desk to see Harry standing there. Harry smiled, and made his way over to the desk.  
“She’s not here.” Michael mumbled before looking down at his phone.  
“Michael you need to tell me what’s going on with her.” Michael looked up quickly, confusion written on his face.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
“I think you do. What’s the story behind all the bruises?” Michael’s face drained of color.  
“It’s not my place to-“  
“Michael if you don’t fucking tell me what’s going on I will go to her house and find out myself.”  
“No! Don’t do that!” Michael screeches, standing up quickly. Michael looks around before nodding towards the door, “Come on we’ll go to the back and I’ll tell you what I can.”  
Harry follows Michael down the hall and into a back room; Michael shuts the door before turning towards him.  
“I’m only going to tell you the basics, because I think she should be the one to tell you but obviously you’re desperate and knowing Hope it’s because she’s shut down on you.” Harry nods.  
“Her mum died when she was real young, and her father always blamed her. He’s an alcoholic and he does all sorts of shit to her. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”  
Harry looks down at his feet; Hope had never mentioned a mum before. He always just thought maybe she didn’t have anything to say about her, but now he realized it was because she wasn’t alive. His heart dropped at the thought of not having his mum.  
“Thank you Michael.” 

 

On his way back to the train station Harry tries absorbing the information, trying to decide what to do about her and how to speak to her about it. He’s stumped though. While he’s lying in bed that night he keeps thinking, because her smell is on the pillow next to his and he can’t get her off his mind. He sits up when the buzzer echoes through the flat.  
He pads down the hall towards the front door and the buzzer keeps sounding out, quicker and quicker each time. He presses the button,  
“Hello?” He mumbles because his voice is tired.  
“Harry! Let me come up!” Hope cries from the other end. Harry buzzes her in, racing down the stairs to her. When he sees her she’s got blood running down her face, her lip busted open and eye swollen shut. Her hair is matted to her face. Harry squeezes her into a hug and she squeaks, Harry lets her go and her lip quivers before tears spill down her cheeks.  
“Harry, I need help.” He immediately picks her up and carries her up to his flat, opening the door and laying her on the couch. He goes to grab something to clean her face up.

As he pats the blood from her face, rubbing circles into her hand and trying not to cry, Hope just stares at his necklace.  
“I’m sorry.” Hope whispers, but Harry removes the cloth and sighs.  
“Don’t be sorry, this isn’t your fault.” Hope’s eyes snap up.  
“It is my fault, you don’t understand!” Harry intertwines their fingers, shushing her.  
“Make me understand Hope; I want you to tell me what’s going on.” Hope’s eyes shift back to his necklace. She takes a deep breath before looking back up at him.  
“When I was little my mum died, I was six. She was bringing me home from dance lessons and I was the only one in the crash to survive. When I was about seven my dad had started drinking a lot, and he-“ She took a shuttered breath, “He sexually assaults me.”  
Harry’s eyes never leave Hope’s face, “Hope, please let me take care of you. I won’t hurt you.”  
Hope nodded, tears spilling over her lashes again as he wiped them away from her cheeks. He grabbed her hand and led her down the hallway towards his room. He grabbed one of his jumpers and a pair of his socks, setting them on the counter in the bathroom before starting the shower.

He lifted his shirt over his head and brushed his fingers over her arm, taking the hem of the bottom of her shirt and lifting it slowly over her head. Hope looked down at her feet, her arms covering her torso. Harry moved her arms, seeing the bruises covering her hips, ribs, and waist. He brushed his fingertips over them before getting down on his knees and pressing his lips to each bruise gingerly.  
He unbuttoned her jeans, before dragging them down her legs to find bruises on her thighs, dark purples and blues, some of them black. Tears filled Harry’s eyes and he inhaled quickly before pressing his face to her stomach. Hope brushed her fingers through his hair. He stood up, unbuttoning his jeans and pushing them down his legs along with his boxers.  
Hope had never felt so loved in her life than in that moment, because the level of intimacy in that moment was through the roof. Harry wasn’t hard, he wasn’t trying to have sex with her, he was just trying to make her better. He was trying to pick the pieces up and put them together, and in that moment Hope felt like things could get better, things could be okay with Harry.  
He washed her hair and her body, being careful of the bruises scattered across her body. He scrubbed the blood from her hair, washing her face and kissing her nose before shutting the shower off. He wrapped her in a fluffy towel before grabbing the jumper and socks from earlier. He grabbed two pairs of sweatpants, and slid on his boxers and a pair of the sweatpants. He unwrapped Hope from the towel, sliding the jumper over her head, handing her the sweatpants and socks.  
He took the towel to toss in the laundry while she slid on his sweatpants. They were way too long, so she rolled them up around her feet, slipping on the socks and rolling up the sleeves of his jumper. She climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up over her body. Harry climbed in a few minutes later. He rubbed Hope’s arm before slipping it over her waist and snuggling up to her back so that he was the big spoon. He pressed his lips to the spot behind her ear, pressing a kiss there before falling asleep. Hope’s hand slipped into his as they drifted off to dreamland, their fingers intertwining. Hope had never felt so safe, not since she was younger and her mum was still around.  
She dreamed off the time they went to the theme park and her mum rode the turtle shell ride with her until they both got sick and couldn’t ride it anymore and how they ate so much candy floss that they had stomach aches for days after. That was one of her favorite memories of her mum.


End file.
